Adventure is Out There
by Abarero
Summary: America takes England on a romantic flight...in a balloon-lifted home. US/UK, inspired by Pixar's UP!


Notes: Written for aph-fluffathon on livejournal. This was for the prompt: _Pixar's UP inspiration. Where the pair goes on a romantic flight in their balloon-lifted home._ Since I ADORE Pixar movies, I had a lot of fun with this, trying to capture the spirit of the film while having a romantic adventure for America and England. I hope you all enjoy it!

* * *

**Adventure is Out There**

* * *

It was as if America had been born to seek out adventure.

All nations, England supposed, had a phase at some point in their long history, of being adventurous. But as for America, he and his people had _always_ been the daring type. It was as if they all had at least a tiny little rebellious streak to them that challenged them to try something new every chance they got, the bloody yanks.

This was why it wasn't much of a surprise to England when America phoned him up and asked if he'd like to take a flight in a balloon lifted house, much like his film that had just come out. Said it was real science. Cluster ballooning or some such similar nonsense.

England just blinked and asked, "You mean like those nutters in lawn chairs?"

America, who England could _tell_ was grinning like a loon over the phone, replied with a laugh, "Nah. Lawn chairs are small and not very cozy. Plus I didn't figure out the ratio of cubic feet of helium to pounds they can lift for nothing!"

And perhaps it was because he knew America would make some horrid pouting face, with big blue puppy eyes and all (something England could sadly imagine quite vividly even over the phone) and definitely not because he was a sap who rather loved the idiot, England resigned.

"Oh fine. I'll be right over, so save your dramatic speech about how amazing and heroic it will be."

"Really?" America queried.

"Don't sound so bloody excited."

America cleared his throat and managed a mock-serious tone. "I will look forward to your arrival then, old chap."

"Oh hush, you."

"Love you too, England! See you soon."

England cleared his throat and gave a pointed look to his little mint green fairy friend who was laughing at him from behind his paw. With a blush, he mumbled out, "Yes. Well. Same to you…l-love."

And as he hung up, the Brit had to strongly resist the urge to toss his cell phone at the fairy who was now flying off to tell all the other fairies about England once again caving to America's whims.

* * *

The fact of it was, America's plans were always scientifically sound.

But that didn't mean England had to think a giant hero to stop global warming was a good or financially sound idea, nor did it incline him to think the current adventure's prospects looked remotely safe at all.

Because _honestly_, a cluster of oh perhaps a good thousand or more balloons tied to America's ramshackle treehouse in the backyard did not bode well to him. Perhaps if it was some hapshod vessel for the sea he'd feel more comfortable- the oceans of the world always seeming so much safer to him than the vast skies above – but as it was…

"America, are you sure this is safe?"

The younger nation just patted England on the shoulder. "Safe enough to fly us to South America, yep!"

"S-South America? There's no bloody way!"

Setting down his luggage, America put his hands on his hips. "England, I've told you. I've done the calculations several times. I have enough helium here to lift the equivalent of 150 Hummers!"

"It's not that I doubt the science behind it," he sighed.

"I've bolted all the furnishings down, in case we encounter any in-air turbulence. I've rigged up some old bed sheets and curtains to work almost like sails, which I can direct using a rope and crank system. And…"

"America, I…"

He just shook his head and tapped England on the nose. "As Amelia always said, 'Never interrupt someone doing what you said couldn't be done.' You know me, right? The hero would never let you get hurt!"

England flushed at that, huffing as he crossed his arms. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"And…" America looked down at the ground and scuffed his toe into the dirt. "I did build on a large porch with a big swing just so we could sit there together and enjoy the view. I wanted to share this adventure with you…"

Any and all protests about his personal safely died on his lips at this, his fairy friends surely laughing at him all the way back at home on the isles be damned.

Leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to America's cheek, England murmured, "You'd better have packed some tea."

America brightened. "No way. Just coffee."

England smirked a bit as he shot back, "Not sure if I can go then…I do supposedly bleed tea according to a certain nation."

"Weellll," America glanced over at England's suitcase, "I'm sure you've packed about eight tons of it. It might mess up my calculations if you bring that on board."

"I'll limit myself to a small pack of Twinings if you don't bring eight different flavors of coffee this and cappuccino that."

America feigned thinking that over before leaning down to press a quick kiss to England's cheek. "Deal. I'll load your luggage!" He called out as he bounded over to the cluster of baggage.

"Git," England muttered in his wake, but a smile was tugging at his lips as he did so.

* * *

It was quite the sight; that was for certain.

America's medium sized treehouse was painted in its warm yellows, reds and blues and adorned (as he'd noted) with a brand new front porch in white, complete with a swing for two. The interior was furnished in old furniture (a love seat, a coffee table, a small kitchen with a portable burner for making each of their hot beverages of choice) and basically all the comforts of a camping trailer without the electrical hookups.

This was, of course, because the treehouse was now hovering slightly in the branches due to the colorful array of helium balloons emitting from the false-chimney of the treehouse. 20,622 balloons, to be precise, America had pointed out.

Dressed in their best khaki adventuring gear, they went around the base of the tree, unfastening all the tethers that were currently holding the house itself earthbound. America held in his hand a rubber hose that was bolted to the side of the building, an idea England was certain he'd gotten from the movie this silly trip was in homage to.

"Okay England, once you let 'er go over there, we can get a running start and climb on up."

Shaking his head and glancing skyward, the older nation sighed. Sometimes he really, truly wondered why he got mixed up in these things. He was getting rather on in years (not that he'd ever let America catch wind that he thought that) and doing loony things like launching a balloon-flown house for a romantic getaway wasn't exactly something he ever planned on doing.

But there was something about moments like this, spent running with his heart racing, pounding in his ears, his adrenaline rising as he felt a wave of nostalgia sweep over him from the days of yore when he used to shimmy up a ship's mast as quickly as he was currently climbing the hose up to the house, following in America's wake- that made him rather crave it.

Those moments where he knew he had a grin just as barmy as America did, their sweat-slicked palms seeking purchase as they clasped hands, England lifting America up onto the deck of his now-flying treehouse.

As they steadied their feet on the wooden porch, America just whooped and yelled out, "Woohoo! To infinity and beyond!"

Beside him, England just chuckled. It was going to be quite the adventure indeed.

* * *

The view was breathtaking; all vibrant blue sky and cotton-white clouds around them, along with the rainbow of balloons that held them aloft.

Floating by serenely as the specks of trees, roads and buildings dotted the landscape below them, both America and England relaxed in the gentle sway of the breeze as it rocked their swing back and forth on the front porch. America had put the flying house on as close to auto-pilot as the contraption could manage and had joined England on the swing not long after they'd gotten to the altitude he wished, wrapping his arm around his partner's waist and fondly telling him the tale of when he first saw a hot air balloon launch.

It was only a view like this and the comforting feel of America's finger absently tracing patterns on his arm that made England allow the subjects at hand. Namely, foppish French twits like Blanchard and America's dear General, Washington.

"The General's fake teeth almost fell out- I swear! - watching that yellow bubble- as he called it- rise up into the sky. Hearing stories about what a sack full of gas can do is one thing, but seeing it with your own eyes is just…" America smiled nostalgically, his look far away in another time, "…_so awesome_."

"You've always been so enamored with flight, even when you were little…"

America chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down England's arm to bring it warmth in the chilly air of the clouds.

"Yeah. The General noticed that too. He gave me the flag Blanchard took on his flight that day afterwards. Still…" he paused and gave England's hair a nuzzle, "doesn't compare to the first time we flew together during the war."

England blinked, shifting in America's arms to face him full on. "You still remember that? Our flight in the Brisfit?"

"Yep."

Thinking back to that day, when America had insisted that he see in person how safe the Bristol Fighters his boys with the RAF were flying in, with England as his co-pilot, the older nation frowned in confusion.

"But in comparison to the first balloon launch, isn't our flight then quite…ordinary?"

"Not to me it wasn't."

And maybe it was his tone, or how blue his eyes looked when surrounded by the skies around them, but England felt his breath catch at that. To think that, even then when they could hardly have called each other acquaintances, America had cherished a thoroughly ordinary event between them. Well, it was quite…

"Romantic sod, you are," he teased.

America blushed, but prodded England's equally flushed cheek with his index finger all the same. "So are you."

Batting his hand away, England leaned in closer. "Yes, well- you're quite worse; all Hollywood romance and happy endings."

America snorted and leveled him a look. "Says the land of Lord Byron and Jane Austen."

Crossed arms. "Broadway musicals."

A raised eyebrow. "West End."

Leaning even closer until he was a hairsbreadth away, England countered, "Disney."

"Shakespeare," America triumphantly ghosted across England's lips.

Blue eyes flickered to meet green and within an instant, they'd closed the space between them; England's lips quickly closing on America's and the two of them quickly twining around each other best as they could on the small wooden porch swing.

A moment later a loud crash resounded throughout the air. Pulling apart, America shot England a look.

"Is that thunder or is my kissing just that awesome?"

England rolled his eyes, gesturing to the dark clouds coming up on them fast.

"Thunder."

America shrugged. "Just checking."

"Idiot," England retorted, leaning forward to peck a quick kiss to his lips. "Let's get inside before we get wet."

"Good idea."

Clasping hands, the two got up from the swing and made their way inside the house.

* * *

Even amidst the storm clouds, America piloted the balloon-house with just as much skill and ease as he might have his favorite plane. England stood at his left, supporting his back and lending an extra hand every time the jolt of thunder or a gust of wind toppled America away from his crank levers. So far, the house had been battered and tossed about as if it was a mere plaything to the winds and storm clouds, but they'd held on.

"Looks like there's a big thunderhead coming up!" America yelled over the deafening roar of thunder.

And in that momentary silence between one clap of thunder and the next, they heard it; the slight whimpering and crying of a dog coming from the closet where they'd stored their suitcases.

America's eyes went wide, as a flash of lightning illuminated his features in contrast. "Oh man, I am going to be in so much trouble if that's what I think it is…" he murmured, quickly handing off the lever to England as he made a mad dash for the closet.

England held the house as steady as he could (the rope-lever system not too far off from a ship's wheel to him), but in doing so he couldn't see what was going on with America until the other nation returned a moment later to his side. He was holding a wiggling, curly, black and white mass of fur that was snuggling against his chest.

"Is that…" England began. America nodded ruefully.

"Boss's dog likes to get in my duffle bags when I go to the White House sometimes. Guess he smuggled himself on board when we were packing." America ruffled the fur on the dog's head. "I thought that bag was heavier than I remembered it being." At that, the dog leaned up and started licking America's face. "Bo, stop it! I'm trying to pilot here!"

"I can take care of it, America. You're not the only pilot here, after all."

Glancing out at the storm around them, then back to England, America gave him a nod. "All right. The turbulence has probably popped too many balloons for us to keep flying for much longer once these higher speed winds stop buoying us up. So let's just hope we're over land."

England frowned, "And what are we going to do if we're not?"

America grimaced. "A lot of swimming."

With renewed determination in his gaze, England took hold of the lever and started to crank it around. "Then let's get bloody going towards something solid."

Bo barked and America just laughed, putting his free arm around England's shoulders as the dog began to lick the older nation's cheek.

"Brilliant idea, old chap," America said in his false British accent.

England huffed. "Oh belt up."

* * *

It wasn't that they _crash_ landed, per say. But it was definitely a rougher landing than any of them would have liked, especially Bo who had started barking loudly as they skidded down through the treetops and into the ground.

America just quipped, "You wanted something solid, didn't you?"

Needless to say, England was _not amused_.

But after hours fighting off the storm, and then a few hours drifting with the balloons slowly popping from the strain the storm had put them through, they were in the long-run, glad to be on solid ground.

Even if it meant they were dragging down _into_ said ground.

"England, I think we might need to jump or something…"

He blinked, "Why's that? Not enough thrill otherwise?"

"No, that," America said, pointing to the stream that was up ahead of them. The home would surely fall into it and shatter, being as it was made of mostly wood.

"But the house…" England glanced around at the small treehouse.

"It's just a house, England," he said handing over Bo, "So you two pieces of precious cargo just hang on and I'll start bailing out what we can."

England sat Bo down, the dog scurrying around their feet as best he could with the house shuddering every few moments as it grazed the ground.

"_We'll_ start bailing out what we can, you bloody hero. There are no damsels here, thank you very much."

Bo barked then, as if to punctuate the sentiment. America gave them both a sheepish smile.

"Right, sorry about that. Let's get going!"

The two nations made a dash for their luggage first, tossing it out onto the forest floor as the stream drew ever nearer. Bo helped in turn by following America around and obediently sitting watchfully by the front door when his nation told him to.

Once the luggage was out, America started pulling up the furniture from the bolts he'd secured them with. With his brutish strength, he made quick work of it, and together he and England helped slide the loveseat out the front door with Bo riding safely atop it.  
They jumped out after it, mere moments before the last cluster of balloons snagged on a tree branch and the house went lurching forward into the stream.

With a loud crash, it toppled into the water and the wood shattered, splintering off boards here and there. England reached over and placed a hand on America's shoulder.

"And you went to all that trouble to build on the porch. I'm sorry, America."

America just shook his head, pointing a finger towards the stream. "Yeah. But it'll be okay. It looks like someone else is going to have a nice, freshly painted home now instead."

England squinted at where he was pointing, the bulk of the building damming up the stream at that location; a dam that had drawn the attention of some of the natural wildlife.

Grinning, America (with Bo at his heels) jogged over to the shore. He paused a moment, before crouching and holding out a hand. "Hey there little guys, it's okay. Bo's a good dog."

The smallest of the family of beavers slowly approached him, as America held out a piece of the broken wood. Quickly, the little beaver snatched it and blinked up at America.

"You guys make a nice house of my house, okay?"

If possible, England swore the beaver gave America a nod before carrying the wood back into the water; the whole beaver family working on damming up the stream the rest of the way with the debris.

Reaching out, England took America's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Well there. It'll be the best beaver lodge in…err…wherever we are."

America replied intuitively, "Best beaver lodge in Canada then. Which speaking of, let me call my bro up and see if he can give us a lift."

"Nothing gets you down, does it?" England teased.

With a jaunty grin, America postured with his thumb up. "Adventure is worthwhile in itself!"

With a shake of his head, England walked back over to where the loveseat sat on the forest floor, Bo bounding up to sit beside him with his tail wagging to and fro.

"He's insufferable, you know that?" He murmured, patting the dog's head.

Bo barked in reply and America sighed. "Hey! I heard that you two!"

"All right then hero, let's get ourselves home."

America pulled out his cell phone and grinned. "One hero, at your service!"

* * *

America's method of getting home was getting Canada to loan them a two-seater biplane.

They'd all loaded their luggage into the small compartments under the seats (a few larger items, like the loveseat, America had made arrangements for Canada to ship to his house) and gotten into some borrowed aviation caps and goggles for the flight home.

America had even fitted a small aviator's cap onto Bo, who was now seated in the nation's lap as he piloted.

They could have flown home via an airline, but America had insisted on a personal flight. England, of course, knew exactly way.

"You do rather love your adventures, don't you?" He called out over the sound of the propeller turning and the rush of wind.

America smiled sentimentally and yelled back at him, "As Miss Keller always used to say, 'Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.' And you know what?"

"What?"

"She was right."

And as England looked out at the sunset orange skies, the president's dog lolling his tongue in the breeze as America piloted them home, he had to smile- just slightly.

"A daring adventure it is, then," he chuckled. "It always is with you, after all."

America reached back, seemingly allowing Bo to pilot in his hand's absence on the wheel, and clasped England's hand.

"It's always better with two, you know."

England gave his hand a squeeze.

"Quite so, America. Quite so."

THE END

* * *

[Notes]  
1) Cluster ballooning is a form of ballooning where a harness attaches a balloonist to a cluster of helium-inflated rubber balloons.

2) Balloons Lifting a House in "Up" is Realistic: Given the fact that one cubic foot of Helium can lift 60 pounds, with even small, 1 x 1-foot balloons, Carl's rig has the capacity to lift about 618 tons — enough to lift about 150 Hummers.

3) _"As Amelia always said"_ refers to a quote by Amelia Earhart. "Adventure is worthwhile in itself!" is another quote of hers.

4) Twinings is a marketer of tea based in Andover, Hampshire, England.

5) On 9 January 1793, French aeronaut Jean-Pierre Blanchard conducted the first balloon flight in North America, ascending from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and landing in Deptford, Gloucester County, New Jersey. One of the flight's witnesses that day was President George Washington, and the future presidents John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and James Monroe.

6) The Bristol F.2 Fighter, or Brisfit, was a British two-seat biplane fighter and reconnaissance aircraft of the First World War flown by the Royal Flying Corps.

7) The Royal Air Force (RAF) is the United Kingdom's air force. During the earlier years of WWI, many Americans who wanted to help joined the RAF under false records.

8) Along with New York's Broadway theatre, West End theatre is usually considered to represent the highest level of commercial theatre in the English speaking world.

9) Bo, also known as Bo Obama, is the pet dog of the Obama family, the First Family of the United States.

10) "_As Miss Keller always used to say_" refers to a quote by Helen Keller.


End file.
